


You Talk About Things That Nobody Cares

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drama, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-22
Updated: 2006-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:50:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Next installment in the new Smallville!Jensen/Gilmore Girls!Jared otp 'verse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** You Talk About Things That Nobody Cares [1/2]  
**Characters:** SV!Jensen/GG!Jared  
**Rating:** NC-17.   
**Word Count:** 4, 465  
**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Jared or Jensen, I’m not affiliated with them, and none of the following ever happened. Of that, I can be certain.   
**Summary:** Next installment in the new otp ‘verse.  
**Notes:** I’d like to thank my beta of badassery, [ ](http://technosage.livejournal.com/profile)[**technosage**](http://technosage.livejournal.com/), for being so enthusiastic about this ‘verse of mine and basically just letting me porn at her all hours of the night and day. And then _fixing_ it. ♥  
  
  
  
  
  
Chad’s in town, and Jared’s thankful. Not just because he likes Chad, but because he’s ready to lose his mind over everything. He hasn’t talked to Jensen since they’d gotten each other off over the phone, for God’s sake. Not that Jared is upset or anything. Hell, it’s only been a week or so, and they both deserve some time and space of their own. He’s not gonna be that guy who has to know every last thing Jen’s doing. It’s just. Well.   
  
Work sucks as usual and he’s not sure what to do about it, or if there even _is_ anything to do about it, because. _Because._ It’s not so much that he doesn’t like the people anymore, although he could cheerfully live without having to pretend to be head over heels for Alexis Bledel on a regular basis. It’s more that he’s just…he’s outgrown them all. There’s no challenge, and if being with Jensen has taught him anything other than the fact that a dick up his ass can feel damn good, it’s that Jared? Needs to be challenged.   
  
He hasn’t looked at that horror/drama script since Vancouver. There’s still a part of him that recognizes the comfort and stability _Gilmore Girls_ provides, and while he’s almost ready to branch out and try new things, he’s not entirely sure he’s making the right choice. Having someone else to talk about it with would help, and Chad’s _here_.   
  
“I’m thinking about not renewing my contract,” he says abruptly while Chad stuffs his face with chili-cheese Fritos. Jared keeps his eyes trained on the poker tournament on TV, ignoring the loud _crunch_ and gurgle as Chad swallows.  
  
“Really,” Chad drawls, and his voice is devilishly pleased, if surprised. There’s a beat of silence, and then he leans over and punches Jared in the arm. “Dude, come to Wilmington. I’ll get you a spot as Lucas’ long-lost best friend who moved away when he was little and comes back as a girl.”  
  
Jared manfully refrains from choking on his sip of Coke. “Sounds about right for a _One Tree Hill_ plotline.” But he’s grinning, which is pretty much the effect Chad was going for, and suddenly everything feels a whole lot simpler. “I’m serious, man. I think I’m gonna go in and talk to Amy this week.”  
  
Chad’s still smiling, but there’s a bit of hesitation coloring his gaze. “That’s great, Jared. But I mean, what’re you gonna do instead?” He crumples up the empty bag of chips, aiming for the trashcan and, surprisingly, making it. Apparently, all that basketball on the show’s paid off for someone. “I know you. You’re not gonna be happy sitting around on your ass while everyone else is off making a living.”   
  
Jared smirks at the derogatory tone Chad gives the last few words, shaking his head. “You’re the laziest asshole I know.”  
  
“That’s why you love me.”  
  
Jared bites his lip, then just goes for it. “I have this script…they’re not really casting yet, but someone leaked it to the network early and…And I kind of took a copy.”  
  
“Yeah?” Chad perks up, all supportive, interested expression. Although whether it’s because Jared’s quitting his job or that he stole to do it, is anyone’s guess. “What’s it about?”  
  
Jared blows out a breath, turning to face Chad. “Okay, so. It’s about these two guys, right? They’re brothers, and there’s all this tension and issues and shit.”  
  
“Oh, God. I’ve heard this one before.”  
  
“No, these are _real_ guys, not hormonal basketball players.” Jared ducks the fist Chad throws and laughs. “They’re on this road trip. And well, basically, they hunt evil shit and ride around in this sweet car and it’s like a different horror movie every week. That’s how the writer describes it, anyway. I don’t know, man, it’s genre. First script’s pretty cool though, it’s—”  
  
“Wait, wait.” Chad holds up a hand. “Are you telling me you’re gonna do _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ for guys?”  
  
“No way,” Jared huffs immediately. “And _guys_ watch Buffy.”  
  
“Yeah, they also watch _One Tree Hill_ ,” Chad counters. “But I dunno if I’d call them _guys._ ”  
  
“You’re an _ass_. Shut up and pay attention.”  
  
“Okay, okay. So you wanna play a ghostbuster…whatever.” Chad gestures for him to keep going, and Jared rolls his eyes. “I’m listening!”  
  
“I really wanna do this, Chad.” His voice is quiet now, and Chad’s smile fades, his expression turning serious.   
  
“Then do it, man. And fuck anyone who tries to get in your way.”  
  
Jared realizes that’s pretty much all he needed to hear.  
  
They’re both quiet for several minutes, and then Chad stands up and stretches his arms over his head. “There’s nothin’ on TV. Hollywood Video, dude. Let’s give the local girls something to freak out about.” He wiggles his brows, voice sly and suggestive, and Jared can’t help but laugh.  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll rock their world.” But he doesn’t protest when Chad starts out the door, Jared’s keys in one hand.   
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
Jared finds himself wandering through the rows of videos, eyes passing over the colorful covers with idle interest. He can still hear the script’s dialogue in his head; still feel that little rush when he’d connected with Sam Winchester. He picks up a copy of _Army of Darkness_ , staring distractedly at the image of Bruce Campbell holding a chainsaw.  
  
“Sweet,” Chad says, coming up behind him and peering over Jared’s shoulder. “That’ll go great with what I picked out.”  
  
Jared looks down, sees the latest John Cusack romantic comedy in Chad’s hand, and smirks. Chad’s always been a bit of a closet romantic, even though everything he outwardly portrays suggests otherwise. Jared thinks, maybe, Chad’s more comfortable watching other people be happy than actually making a go of it himself.  
  
He opens his mouth to reply and is silenced when the front door jingles, opens, and a familiar voice drawls, “Whatever you want, babe, just make it quick.”  
  
The grin on Jared’s face is frozen, clown-like and surreal, his fingers gripping the movie so hard he imagines he can feel Bruce’s chainsaw slicing through the tips. Chad’s staring at him, eyes darkening in confusion, but Jared can’t seem to find any words to explain the sinking feeling in his stomach.  
  
He can _feel_ Jensen. Can feel Jensen’s eyes on him, surprise and heat digging into Jared’s back, so he turns around. He forgets about Chad. About the movie in his hand. He forgets about everything but the sight of Jensen with a gorgeous blonde hanging on his arm, purring God only knows what into his ear.  
  
Every minute they haven’t spoken suddenly flashes through Jared’s brain, the few days of comfortable silence transforming into uneasy distance as he swallows and stares over Jensen’s head at a poster of _Finding Neverland_.  
  
Then the blonde’s disappearing further into the store and Jensen waits a moment before walking over, uncertainty in every step. Out of the corner of his eye, Jared can see the little shopgirl who’d tittered over him and Chad watching them, her excited, gossiping voice grating in his ears.   
  
“I didn’t know you were in town,” he says, proud of the almost disinterested note in his voice. Of course, Jensen’s staring at his white-knuckled grip on the DVD case, so it’s all pretty pointless to pretend, anyway.   
  
There’s an awkward beat of silence, compounded when Jensen finally raises his eyes to meet Jared’s, and Jared sees the inner wheels working behind that stoic stare. “Yeah, it was pretty last minute.”  
  
Jared nods. _Lies, all lies_. His mouth tilts into a mockery of a smile that just. Hurts. “I guess…you left my number back in Vancouver?”   
  
Jensen doesn’t flinch, but the corners of his mouth tighten just a bit. His voice is impatient when he says, “I know your number.”  
  
_Jared_ flinches, the words more than crystal clear. As well as the dismissal behind them. He’s opening his mouth to answer when Jensen suddenly goes rigid, eyes traveling over Jared’s shoulder and locking on something. Jared doesn’t have time to turn around before he realizes what’s going on.  
  
“The fuck you doing here, Ackles?” Chad sneers, arm looping around Jared’s shoulders so that he’s propped against Jared in an inelegant sprawl, bristling like an attack dog. Jared appreciates the sentiment, if not the method, lips quirking just a bit as Jensen’s gaze flicks back and forth between them.  
  
“Rest and relaxation?” Jared guesses before Jensen can speak, giving Jensen an out despite his own genuine curiosity. He doesn’t wanna see Chad grill Jensen, even if he’d personally like to strangle Jensen’s stubborn ass at the moment. Besides, there’s gotta be a good reason—  
  
“I can’t find it,” the blonde woman interrupts, sidling up to Jensen and completely ignoring Jared’s – and Chad’s – existence. “Let’s go.”  
  
Jared catches a whiff of some exotic, expensive perfume before he’s able to really get a good glimpse of her. Then gawks in recognition.  
  
“Holy shit,” he hears Chad mutter beneath his breath, understanding the bitter appreciation coloring his friend’s words.  
  
Jensen’s cool as ever when Jared stares at him. “Give me just a minute, Joanna,” he murmurs, expression not changing when she leans up and brushes a kiss across his cheek, smiling vaguely at Jared before turning and walking out of the video store.  
  
“Nice,” Chad drawls, arm still wrapped around Jared’s neck. Jared feels like he’s suffocating. “So, what’s wrong with her?”  
  
“Chad,” Jared murmurs, surprised he can even manage a civil tone when his throat is closed up so tight he can barely breathe without choking. “Cut it out, man.”  
  
But Jensen just ignores Chad, watching Jared with the barest hint of a grimace coloring his features. He slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks – _defense mechanism_ , Jared thinks, because he _knows_ Jensen, even if Jensen’s trying his best to make it untrue.  
  
“Jared,” he begins, quiet, and suddenly the last thing Jared wants right now is to hear whatever dumbass explanation Jensen’s planning to shove off on him. He might be slow on the uptake, but he’s quick enough at acceptance.   
  
“You know, we’re gonna get stuck in traffic,” he says, too brightly, easing out of Chad’s grasp and waving the DVDs in his hand. “It was good to see you, Jen. I…” He swallows, turning up his smile another few notches. “Have fun while you’re here.”  
  
Jensen’s expression goes carefully blank. “I will, Jay.”  
  
Jared bites back a curse and does some goofy salute before turning on his heel and moving away, barely resisting the urge to stomp up to the counter. He can still feel Jensen watching him, but then the door jingles again and there’s nothing but cool air circulating. He meets the cashier’s curious gaze with a smile. “Hi, there. Can I get a bag for these?”  
  
Chad’s abnormally quiet when they get back to Jared’s apartment. Not that Jared really notices _much_ , wrapped up in ridiculous thoughts of Jensen and the blonde and Thanksgiving and just what the hell was even going _on?_ He’d thought…well, he’d thought that he finally knew where they stood together. That maybe…  
  
“Jay?”  
  
His head snaps up at the familiar name on the wrong lips, sees Chad staring at him with burning eyes and a tight set to his mouth. “What?”  
  
“Jay?” Chad repeats, snarling, and Jared’s jaw works when his friend adds, “ _Jen?_ What the fuck is going on, Jared? Since when do you know _Jensen Ackles_ well enough to have pet names for the asshole?”  
  
“He’s not an asshole,” Jared says immediately, although the truth is that Jensen is a major asshole. A son of a bitch, really, and Jared should just be fucking _thankful_ for that weird scene at the video store, because now? Now he knows the _real_ Jensen Ackles. Still, he doesn’t much like the idea of Chad talking shit about Jensen. Which just goes to prove how totally fucked the hell up Jared really is.  
  
Chad’s still watching him, eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. When his voice comes, it’s grainy and rough. _Worried_ , if Jared didn’t know Chad better. “Yeah, he is actually.”  
  
“Whatever.” Jared doesn’t really want to talk about it right now. What he _wants_ is to forget today ever happened, to bury himself in bed and wake up to find out it was all some stupid dream brought on by eating too much curry too late in the evening.  
  
Surprisingly, Chad lets the subject drop, although Jared can tell this won’t be the end of it. “Hey, so, you wanna watch Ash kick some ass?”  
  
Jared nods, grateful, ignoring the dull ache brewing behind his eyes.  
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
He’s woken up hours later by warm breath and hands. He rolls over, sleep weighing his lashes as he makes out the blurry image hovering over him, apology and something else coloring those familiar features. Jared blinks, voice gruff and tired. “Jensen?”  
  
“Hey,” Jensen says, and even though he whispers, it sounds much too loud.  
  
Jared stares. “What’re you doin’ here?” he finally manages, wondering if he’s dreaming after all. Maybe that whole…thing had just been a figment of the overactive imagination he’s been accused of all his life.   
  
Jensen holds something up, silver flashing in the moonlight. “I have a key,” he answers, although he knows that’s not what Jared means. “I just. I thought maybe we should talk.”  
  
Jared can’t help but laugh at _that._ “You wanna _talk?_ Um, you feelin’ okay, Jensen?”  
  
His tone is teasing, but Jensen stiffens and looks away, voice shaky. “Damn it, Jared.” His teeth tug at his bottom lip, and he doesn’t quite meet Jared’s eyes when he murmurs, “You mad at me then?”  
  
A few hours ago, the answer to that would’ve been an unequivocal, resounding _yes._ Now…   
  
“I’m just, I’m confused, I guess.” Jared picks at a stray thread on his comforter, suddenly way too aware of his nakedness. Squirming a bit under Jensen’s steady gaze, he inwardly curses himself and then lifts his eyes. With a little more heat, he adds, “But then, you’ve made it pretty clear you’re not in LA to see _me,_ so what the fuck does it matter?”  
  
Jensen makes a face. “Jared.”  
  
“Hey, you wanna mess around with sexy blonde supermodels, be my guest,” Jared drawls, nearly choking on the lie. “Not like I own you or anything.”  
  
Jensen’s mouth quivers like he’s trying to suppress a laugh, although there’s nothing approaching amusement in his expression. “You don’t,” he agrees, low and hoarse.   
  
“Yeah.” Jared’s fingers curl into fists, and he grins. “Same goes, you know.”  
  
“You wanna hang out with sexy blondes?”  
  
Jared keeps his voice steady when he says, “I’m kind of over blonds now. Brunets, too. Maybe I’ll give redheads a try.”  
  
This time, Jensen seems to deflate before his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says roughly, sounding anything but. His eyes are hostile and confrontational, glittering and wet. His fingers dig deep into Jared’s shoulders as he straddles his thighs and brings his face close. “I…don’t know.”  
  
“Don’t know what?” Jared breathes, trying to ignore the rapid pulse of his heartbeat as Jensen grinds his hips down. He leans back on his elbows, throat working and lids falling. “Don’t know _what?_ ” he grits out, impatience creeping into his voice and making Jensen pause, surprise written across his features at Jared’s sudden show of force.  
  
“Don’t know what the hell we’re doing,” Jensen finally growls, dragging his hips closer and mashing their lips together. Between wet licks at Jared’s mouth, he mutters, “Christ, I can’t breathe. Why aren’t you fucking _mad_ , Jared?”  
  
“You seem mad enough for both of us,” Jared gasps, tilting his head when Jensen’s lips work their way down his cheek, across the underside of his jaw. He arches his hips, feeling the press of Jensen’s dick against his own. “It’d be a bit much for me to be, too.”  
  
Jensen pulls back and stares at him, conflicting emotions shadowing his features. Jared licks at his lips and pants heavily, too fucking tired to try and play like he doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want _Jensen._ Jensen makes a soft sound, not entirely pleasant, and then his teeth are pulling at Jared’s bottom lip and his fingers at the blankets.  
  
“You’re always so fucking _understanding_ ,” he slurs, and again Jared takes note of the shine in Jensen’s eyes. The flush in his cheeks. There’s a faintly sour taste in Jensen’s mouth, and all at once everything makes sense.  
  
“And you’re drunk,” Jared mutters, staring past him to the ceiling and trying not to make a complete fool out of himself by crying or some dumb shit. “You’re here because you’re fucking wasted and have nowhere else to go.”  
  
Jensen lets out a manic laugh, fingers gripping Jared’s bare thighs. “You think so?” he says roughly, laying a slow lick up the side of Jared’s neck. “I got Joanna’s hotel room number. I doubt she’d mind if I—”  
  
“You think you can pull this shit with me?” Jared’s shaking with anger now, hands shoving Jensen back so hard that Jensen stumbles to regain his balance on the bed. “The fuck do you think I am, Jen, some teenage groupie begging _favors_ from the big, bad TV star?”  
  
Jensen blinks long, stupid lashes. His mouth is shiny and wet, and in this light he looks almost vulnerable. But Jared’s not falling for this shit again. He’s about two seconds away from slamming a fist into Jensen’s too-pretty features or fucking him blind – he’s not sure which.   
  
“Go ahead,” Jensen finally answers, licking his bottom lip like Jared _had_ punched the tender flesh. It sends a jolt through him, along with hazy images of laving the nonexistent wound, and then Jensen adds, “Ask me about her.”  
  
Jared flexes his fingers, but remains silent.  
  
“I know you wanna know,” Jensen continues, voice dangerously provoking. “If I fucked her.”  
  
Jared laughs, low and not amused. “Just leave, Jensen.”  
  
“I didn’t.” It comes out on a frustrated breath, and when Jensen adds, “I _wanted_ to. But I didn’t do anything, Jay,” Jared goes still.  
  
“Well, don’t let _me_ stop you,” he manages, wondering if this is what it feels like to have a heart attack. His chest _burns_ and he can’t seem to get enough air in his lungs, and Jensen keeps _staring at him_ like he’s fucking foaming at the mouth. “I understand,” he adds, even though it’s such a damn _lie_. Anything to just get Jensen to leave.  
  
“You don’t understand anything!” Jensen shouts, practically shaking Jared. “You’re always…always fucking _there_ and you…sometimes I can’t fucking breathe around you, Jared.”  
  
“I heard you the first time,” Jared says tightly, reaching up to pry Jensen’s fingers away from his shoulders. “Fine. It’s over.” His breath hitches. “All you had to say…all you ever fucking had to _say_ was that you wanted out.”  
  
It’s like Jensen doesn’t even hear him. “I wanted to fuck Joanna, just to prove to myself that I _could_ , y’know? That I wasn’t dick-whipped over some…some…” He trails off as Jared stares at him through blurry eyes. “I came for Steve’s concert. It’s…I can’t, it’s too _quiet._ ”  
  
Jared blinks, struggling to keep up with the conversation, heart still gagging his throat. “O-Okay.”  
  
“Damn it, Jared.” Jensen growls low in his throat, presses the heel of his hand between his brows. “I want you to come with me,” he says, voice trembling. “I want you to be there.”  
  
There’s a beat of silence, and then Jared slumps against the headboard. “I don’t fucking _get_ you,” he murmurs, torn between relief and the lingering horror that this was it. That Jensen had finally realized that he was light years ahead of Jared in experience, intelligence, _everything_.  
  
“I know, baby,” Jensen’s saying now – voice soft, nearly crooning as his hands find Jared’s dick and stroke. “Jus’…forget this happened, okay? I swear, I’ll…I’ll be better.” He’s babbling now, expression frantic and something else Jared can’t quite pin down before Jensen bends his head and drops a sloppy-wet kiss on the inside of Jared’s thigh. “I can make it good again.”  
  
Jared is sufficiently weirded out. “Jen.” He tugs at Jensen’s head, fingers catching the short strands of hair. He sucks in sharply when Jensen opens his mouth over Jared’s cock, tongue curling. “Jen, wait.”  
  
“Wanna taste you,” Jensen’s murmuring, voice dark and dirty, and Jared can’t help the burst of his hips or the soft whimper. Jensen grins sharply, and Jared just stares down at him, mind a dizzying whirlwind of _what the fuck is going on?_  
  
“Please,” he chokes out, and he’s not sure if he means _pleasestop_ or _pleaseohgoddon’teverstop_.   
  
Jensen’s mouth is like a furnace, and so tight and wet that Jared’s quickly on the verge of forgetting every question he has. He just wants to thrust, to fuck up in between those lips until…until…   
  
His fingers tighten, digging into Jensen’s scalp. “Oh. Oh, Jen…what’re you…”   
  
Jensen looks up, eyes heavy lidded and challenging. “Just relax,” he whispers before his head disappears again. Jared feels hands pulling him open, feels that velvet-rough brush of tongue again, nearly choking on air as he gulps and bucks up.  
  
“Jesus _Christ._ ”  
  
After months of fucking around with Jensen, he’s thought himself pretty versed in the art of, well, gay sex. But with Jensen’s tongue currently _inside_ of him, Jared’s bluntly reminded of just how truly naïve he is. There’s a part of him that thinks he should be a little put off, grossed out, but the bigger part of himself can’t think beyond how fucking good it is.  
  
Jensen’s hand is wrapped tightly around Jared’s cock, jerking him off in tandem with each tongue stroke. The other has Jared’s leg pulled high across Jensen’s shoulder, and Jared bites his lip and tries to keep still. He’s not at all certain about the etiquette of having your _ass licked,_ and he doesn’t wanna do anything that might make it, well, _stop._  
  
But then Jensen’s mouth does something incredible that has Jared’s hips pumping against his will, and he hears Jensen growl low in his throat. Jensen pulls away with a gruff, “That’s it. Let me make you feel good, okay?” and Jared throws an arm over his eyes and cusses, low and filthy.  
  
He hears the soft _snick_ of a zipper being undone and the subsequent grunts and groans. Jensen’s touching himself, too. Jared’s teeth sink into his forearm and he thrusts up into Jensen’s fist, coming hard with the mental image of Jensen’s head between his thighs and callused fingers on his cock.   
  
There’s an appreciative groan after that first white-hot burst, and then Jensen’s mouth is back on Jared’s dick, lapping and swallowing. Jared half-wonders why this feels more like an apology than any words Jensen could offer, but then Jensen’s teeth graze his dick and everything goes a bit gray. He opens his eyes, gaze riveted as Jensen humps into his own palm and shoots in a sticky-warm mess against the sheets.  
  
Jared’s a bit shaky and disoriented when he lowers his leg and finally meets Jensen’s gaze. The hopeful question there burns away the rest of Jared’s anger, and he blows out a breath and mutters, “You stupid _ass_. C’mere.”   
  
Both of them choose to ignore the thickness in his voice as Jensen presses up against him, lips finding Jared’s chin as he mumbles, “Good?”  
  
“Real good, Jen,” he answers, again not entirely sure if they’re talking sex or not. He drags another pillow over, shoves it at Jensen. “Sleep, okay?”  
  
He can feel Jensen staring at him, but all he says is, “Yeah.”  
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
Jared makes sure he’s up before Jensen, dressed, cheerful smile in place when Jensen finally stumbles into the kitchen late morning. “Hey,” he says, pouring coffee and hoping to God his voice is as steady as his hand. “Black, right?”  
  
If Jensen feels awkward over what happened the night before, it doesn’t show in his cool demeanor as he scratches his naked belly and drops into a chair. “Aspirin,” he chokes out, rubbing his face and grimacing. “God, my mouth tastes like ass.”  
  
Jared nearly drops the mug, cheeks burning, and sends scalding coffee sloshing over the rim and onto the floor. “Uh, just a sec,” he manages, ignoring the weird look Jensen gives him and placing the coffee on the counter. “I’ve got Tylenol.”  
  
“Wonderful,” Jensen sighs, head in his hand. He points to the coffee cup. “Just crumble up a few hundred in there, okay?”  
  
Jared laughs a little too loudly, cringing at the sound. Back to Jensen, he closes his eyes and mutters a few choice phrases at himself before grabbing the coffee and bottle of pain reliever and handing both over to Jensen.  
  
“You okay?” Jensen asks, eyeing Jared with some unreadable emotion. “You seem a little tense.”  
  
Jared wants to laugh again, but he just shakes his head and croaks out, “M’fine. Just a bit of a headache.”  
  
Jensen’s expression softens and he grunts. “I know the feeling.” He pops a few of the red and white capsules in his mouth before offering Jared the bottle.   
  
Jared shakes his head. “Already took some.”  
  
“Oh.” Jensen shrugs and takes a sip of the coffee, licking his lips. “Good.”  
  
_Good?  
  
Real good, Jen._  
  
Jared banishes the voices from his mind, smiling wider. He can do this. He can pretend everything’s okay, because it _is._ Jensen apologized, even though he didn’t…he hadn’t really done anything. They’re fine. Everything’s fine, and Jared’s not a chick. He’s not gonna worry about it.  
  
Jensen’s _here_ , after all.  
  
“So, what time’s the concert?” he asks brightly, coming around the table to sit across from Jensen. He takes a sip from his own glass and does an admirable job of not choking on the bland taste when he realizes he forgot the sugar.  
  
Jensen’s gaze dims only a little when he says, “Concert? Oh. Um, it’s not until later tonight.”  
  
Jared refuses to be put off by the wary tone. “Sounds good,” he says, head and heart pounding. “I guess we can do whatever until then.” He waits a beat, then adds, “Or I can just…find you later.”  
  
Jensen reaches out and grabs his arm. “We can do whatever,” he answers gruffly, and Jared relaxes a bit. “But what about Chad?” Jensen’s voice darkens a bit on the name. “Isn’t he visiting you?”  
  
“He left for New York this morning.” Jared’s eyes narrow at the relief coloring Jensen’s gaze. “You two _really_ don’t get along, do you?”  
  
Jensen just tilts his cup back and drains the coffee in response, while Jared smiles and thinks maybe it’s time he found out the answer. And if Jensen won’t talk, well, he knows several ways to get Chad to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** You Talk About Things That Nobody Cares [2/2]  
**Characters:** SV!Jensen/GG!Jared  
**Rating:** NC-17.   
**Word Count:** 6, 244  
**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Jared or Jensen, I’m not affiliated with them, and none of the following ever happened. Of that, I can be certain.   
**Summary:** Next installment in the new otp ‘verse.  
**Notes:** I’d like to thank my beta of badassery, [ ](http://technosage.livejournal.com/profile)[**technosage**](http://technosage.livejournal.com/), for being so enthusiastic about this ‘verse of mine and basically just letting me porn at her all hours of the night and day. And then _fixing_ it. ♥  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“You ever miss Texas winters?” Jared asks, watching fondly as Jensen walks and dips a spoon into yogurt, sliding it inside of his mouth. “And dude, how the hell can you eat that stuff? Low-fat isn’t a flavor I’m familiar with.”  
  
Jensen swallows, licks his lips and points a finger south of Jared’s belt. “Give your metabolism a few years to catch up with your…legs.”   
  
“You think I got nice…legs?” Jared flutters his lashes, quickening his pace so that he’s walking backward in front of Jensen. “Baby, that just might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”  
  
“Not true.” There’s a smile teasing the corners of Jensen’s mouth, and it goes a long way toward dispelling any lingering shadows from the night before. Jensen’s voice thrums deep and low when he adds, “There was that time I said you could suck a bowling ball out through the eye of a needle.”  
  
Jared’s cheeks go pink, but he’s grinning right back. “Oh, yeah. But you didn’t answer my question.”  
  
Jensen licks his spoon before tossing it and the empty yogurt carton into a nearby trash receptacle. “Sure, you got real nice legs, Jay.”  
  
“That’s so not even what I meant, jackass.”  
  
Jensen’s smirk dims, and some of Jared’s happiness is swept away by the cool Los Angeles breeze. “What question?”  
  
Well, hell. He’d hoped to bring it up real smooth-like, not freak Jensen out and get an honest-to-God answer in the process. Now… “Texas,” he says lightly, taking careful note of every shift in Jensen’s expression. “Do you ever miss it?”  
  
“Kind of hard to when I was just there,” Jensen responds easily, hand in his pocket as he smiles blandly at a few women walking by.   
  
Jared tastes frustration heavy on his tongue. “Not San Antonio. I mean, _I_ would miss San Antonio. You would miss—”  
  
“Jared.” There’s a warning there that Jared contemplates ignoring, but then they pass under an archway and Jensen’s thumbs are hooked in Jared’s belt loops. Jared’s breath rushes out when he’s pressed up against the stone-mortar. He rests his hands low on Jensen’s back, letting Jensen eat at his mouth. Fingers digging into the soft cotton of Jensen’s shirt, he groans low in his throat and inches the fabric up to find the hot skin underneath. Jensen shifts, bites his bottom lip, and then he’s gone and Jared’s left grasping air.  
  
“Jen, wha…”  
  
“You had some yogurt on your lip.”  
  
Jared’s brows draw together. “I wasn’t eating yogurt.”  
  
“Huh.” Jensen looks wide-eyed and innocent. “Then, I guess maybe I just wanted to suck on that pretty pink mouth,” he murmurs, and Jared goes instantly and blindingly hard. Jensen lets out a low laugh, and Jared glares without heat.  
  
“Jesus,” he mutters, and Jensen’s smile spreads.  
  
“Close enough.”  
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
Jared’s dated quite a bit during his formative years, and he thinks he’s become pretty damn good at the whole accompanying circuit. Meeting the family, the friends, it’s all pretty much business as usual. Unless of course, it’s Jensen. And then Jared apparently turns into a girl without a clue what to wear or what to say.  
  
The stupid thing is? Jared’s actually _met_ Steve. Twice. But never like this, never at Jensen’s _invitation_ , and he thinks he just might stroke out and die if he says or does something to make the guy dislike him.  
  
It doesn’t help any that Tom calls during the middle of his mini-freak out, wanting to talk about the rumor he’d heard that Jared was leaving _Gilmore Girls._  
  
“Are you sure?” he says for the fifteenth time while Jared searches for a matching sock under his bed. “I mean, you’ve been there practically since the beginning, man. You grew up on that set.”  
  
“And now it’s time for baby to leave the nest,” Jared mocks, grunting in triumph as he spots a white snake of cotton crumpled by the leg of the bed. He jerks it out, gives it a quick once-over for stains, then pulls it over his foot.   
  
“I think it’s great you wanna do other stuff,” Tom continues in that same just-short-of-patronizing tone of voice that Jared can’t get mad about, because he knows Tom’s just being protective. That’s Tom, and he appreciates it. He does. Just…not when he’s losing his mind over impressing Jensen’s cooler than anything friends.  
  
“Thanks, Tom,” he says distractedly, sliding on his sneakers and coming to his feet to check his hair. Again.  
  
“But…I just, I’d feel better if it was something _established_ , you know? How do you know this…what’s it called?”  
  
“ _Supernatural_.”  
  
“Right, how do you know it’s even gonna get past pilot season?” Tom says. “Maybe I should talk to Al, see if I can’t get you a stint here.”  
  
Jared barely resists snorting. “As Clark’s long-lost best friend from Krypton who comes back bisexual and a woman?”  
  
There’s a beat of silence, and then, “Okay, wow. You’ve been watching way too much _One Tree Hill._ ”  
  
Jared pulls the receiver away and bangs his forehead with the end several times. The doorbell rings, and he’s torn between flailing around like a lunatic and changing his shirt.  
  
Again.  
  
“Gotta go, Tom,” he huffs into the phone, excited nerves making his hands shake. “I’ll call you later, okay?”  
  
“Jared—”  
  
He tosses the phone on his bed, skids into the living room and throws open the front door to find Jensen leaning against the frame with a single red rose in his hand and a smirk on his face.  
  
“Oh, you have _got_ to be shitting me,” Jared mutters, crossing his arms against his chest and staring down at Jensen through his bangs. “Dude. Seriously.”  
  
“Wow, see if you get the chocolate bon bons now,” Jensen drawls, tone and expression wounded as Jared rolls his eyes and reaches for his jacket. They’re between floors in the elevator when Jensen leans over and murmurs, “Nice shirt.”  
  
Jared stares straight ahead, refusing to grin even a little bit. “Shut up.”  
  
Jensen’s quiet laughter punctuates the short walk to his car, and Jared finds himself smiling during the fifteen minute drive to the bar downtown. He’s still a bit nervous, yeah, but then Jensen brushes his hand down the small of Jared’s back when they go in, and Jared’s biggest concern is hiding the tent pole in his pants.  
  
Steve’s nowhere to be found, but that guy from _Angel_ comes up and pulls Jensen into a headlock, face flushed with laughter and drink. Jared watches as Jensen shoves him off, eyes bright and features relaxed before he meets Jared’s gaze.  
  
“Chris,” he drawls, accepting the glass of beer the guy hands him. “This is my…this is Jared Padalecki.” The slip is barely noticeable among the clearly inebriated crowd, but Jared hears it all the same and something soft and hot bursts in his chest.  
  
“Aw, yeah.” Chris snaps his fingers repeatedly in Jared’s face, leaning against Jensen’s shoulder. “You’re on that one about the Gilmore girls. Whassit called?”  
  
“ _Gilmore Girls_ , you damn drunk.” Jensen wraps an arm around Chris’s neck and mumbles something Jared can’t make out. Chris eyes Jared, then grins from ear to ear.  
  
“Well, well. You don’t say,” he says cryptically. Jared smiles back, not really sure what the hell else to do.  
  
“Sit down before you fall down, man.” Jensen shoves Chris gently with one hand as his friend’s ass smacks against the back of a chair. “Where’s Steve?”  
  
“Warming up backstage. Go on and see him, Jenny.” Chris waves them off with a hand, already turning to butt his way into another conversation.  
  
“Jenny?” Jared murmurs, following close behind Jensen as they weave their way through the tables of people. “How nice and _purty_.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Jensen answers. “Or I won’t let you—”  
  
His words are lost as a waitress drops a tray of glasses and the entire room bursts into loud, raucous applause. The tiny blonde takes a deep curtsy, smiling sheepishly as someone tosses her a broom, and then Jared looks up again to see Jensen and Steve deep in conversation behind the stage.  
  
He moves closer, overhearing Steve’s melodic voice saying, “You sure about this, Jensen?”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I mean, I think I am. Too late anyway, right?” There’s a little bitterness coating Jensen’s laugh, and then he catches sight of Jared and sobers. “Jay, hey.”  
  
“Hey,” Jared answers, lips twitching in a quick smile. He nods toward Steve. “What’s up, man?”  
  
“Jared.” Steve’s voice is friendly, if a little distant, and all of the same hesitation and anxiety begins to well up inside of him.   
  
Steve’s set comes up before much conversation can be had, and Jared sits across from Jensen and watches him drain glass after glass of watered down beer on tap. It’s not until Jensen’s eyes are nearly full-black and dilated that Jared reaches out and slides the glass away from Jensen’s fingers, squeezing lightly and saying, “I think you’re done, Jen.”  
  
Jensen blinks at him, licking his lips and leaning forward. “Didn’t think we’d started yet,” he murmurs, and the words are so husky and pointed that Jared swallows and reaches for the collar of his shirt. “You ready to get the hell outta here?”  
  
Jared is, although he’s a bit surprised by Jensen’s eagerness. After all, these are _his_ friends, and he claims to have come to LA for the sole purpose of this concert to begin with. Leaving halfway through doesn’t seem to speak much for either of them.  
  
But Jensen’s already on his feet, coming around Jared’s chair and dropping his hands on Jared’s shoulders. Jared stays still when Jensen’s lips brush his ear. “C’mon, Jay.”  
  
Nobody seems to notice them leave, or they don’t try to stop them, and at Jensen’s insistence – _“It’s closer, Jay I wanna fuck you so bad”_ – they make it back to Jen’s hotel room in record time. Jared finds himself with an armful of horny, drunk, fucking ridiculously sexy Jensen Ackles as he chokes on a curse and tries to open the door with the card key.  
  
“Fuck,” he growls again, slamming the door with his foot and jerking Jensen up by his arms. “Christ, just…gimme a minute.” He’s breathing too fast, can’t figure out where he wants to put his hands as Jensen tugs at his belt and yanks the leather out the loops in a brown and silver flash.  
  
Jensen shoves him back until his knees hit the bed, and Jared opens his mouth only to swallow a groan when Jensen swallows him. His hips buck, his fingers clench in Jensen’s gelled hair. He slumps back against the mattress and stares up at the plaster ceiling while fucking Jensen’s too-talented mouth.  
  
“Mmm..” Jensen’s saying, making noisy slurping sounds around Jared’s cock, blunt nails scratching the insides of Jared’s thighs. “Fuck, you taste so good, Jay. So damn _innocent._ ”  
  
It makes Jared frown through a moan, and he leans up on his elbows to watch Jensen’s ministrations. Those green eyes are closed, gold-brown lashes shadowing hollowed cheeks as his tongue curls and flicks around Jared’s dick again and again. “ _Jesus_ ,” Jared breathes, swallowing and resting a hand on Jensen’s head. “S-Slow down, Jen.”  
  
Jensen stops, pulling back and opening glazed eyes to stare up at Jared. Then he’s standing, dragging his own zipper down and shoving both pants and underwear down his legs. Jared has a moment to stare at the sheer fucking _perfection_ of Jensen’s blood-hardened cock before Jensen’s on the bed with him.  
  
He doesn’t think about anything at all when Jensen’s tongue slides against his own, salty musk and alcohol flavoring the thick muscle. Jensen’s humping against him, squeezing Jared’s calf and digging into Jared’s shoulders with his fingers.  
  
_So damn innocent_ flashes through Jared’s lust-clogged brain, and he’s hit with sudden, insane inspiration. He pulls away, biting back a groan when Jensen chases after his mouth. He slaps a hand up against Jensen’s chest  
  
“I could…” he trails off on a suggestive whisper, gesturing down lamely while watching Jensen with big eyes. “You know. With my tongue…like you did?”  
  
Jensen’s flushed and pupil-blown, widespread legs and thighs, a lust-ridden mess. He watches Jared dazedly for a long minute, then his gaze sharpens. When his voice comes, it’s tighter than a virgin cunt and so cynical it cuts Jared to the bone. “You can’t even say it, Jay, much less do it.”  
  
Jared swallows frustration, narrowing his gaze and reaching for Jensen’s hips. With a quick jerk, he’s got Jensen flipped onto his belly and pinned against the mattress, firm ass tilted up and toward him like a fucking invitation. Jared savors the quick little gasp, then runs a hand down Jensen’s spine, nails digging into the skin with light possession. When he reaches that sweet curve of flesh, his palm opens, expands, rounding and squeezing.  
  
“Jared.” Jensen’s voice is muffled into his arm, rough like whiskey. “Jay…”  
  
“We’re outta lube,” Jared says, slurs, eyes fixed on the slow movement of his fingers as they creep toward the center. His breath hitches, heart rabbiting in his chest, and he catches his bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. “Th-This’ll work?”  
  
He doesn’t mean to phrase it as a question, and wants to saw off his own tongue when Jensen jerks, neck twisting and green eyes glittering beneath heavy lids. The emotions swimming in that gaze are dark and vicious and Jared nearly cowers back, into the shadow lining the gold-trimmed wallpaper. His thumb presses deep, dimpling Jensen’s skin.   
  
“It’ll work.” Jensen’s words are soft and muted, and yet there’s a dangerous challenge weighing them down. It’s fucking irresistible.  
  
Jared nods, swallowing in heady excitement, resting his other palm on Jensen’s ass and relishing the shudder that ripples right through. He brings his mouth to the base of Jensen’s spine, further down, opening his lips and grazing his teeth along the taut muscle. He gets a little dizzy by the quick, sharp burst of blood to his dick, sways, then pulls back to get more comfortable. Knees spread, cradling the outside of Jensen’s, he takes a deep breath and uses his thumbs to pull Jensen wide open.  
  
Jensen startles, cursing filthy low under his breath. Jared sees his fingers press into the sheets and feels a blinding rush of satisfaction. His tongue toys with one muscled groove, thumbs brushing in slow circles.  
  
Jensen says something Jared can’t quite make out, in a tone Jared can’t quite distinguish, and when he asks Jensen to speak up, he gets a dirty look in response. “Do it,” Jensen growls, sounding slow and drugged. _Fucked._ Jared’s hips surge forward, and Jensen laughs. The sound is anything but amused. “Need instructions?” he purrs. “First, you lick—”  
  
Jared swipes his tongue along the crease of Jensen’s ass, effectively shutting him up. There’s a choked sound from Jensen’s throat, and then he’s bucking back against Jared’s mouth and keening deep and low, back a rigid bow. “Jesus fuck.”  
  
It’s…it’s not quite like Jared imagined. A little weird, yeah, he has his tongue in someone’s _ass_ after all, but he’s instantly addicted – to hearing Jensen whimper and groan and beg like a whore for _Jared_. Because he wants what Jared’s giving, and there’s no other substitute. Jared’s pretty sure about that, anyway.  
  
Eyes closed, he just kinda goes with the flow, lingering where Jensen grunts and groans, teasing, licking, familiarizing himself with Jensen on a whole new level. He _likes_ it, and maybe that should freak him out a bit. It doesn’t. His tongue sends Jensen’s hips rolling, slow and steady, and Jensen’s voice is a soundtrack of filth that has Jared working faster toward that unknown end.  
  
“Fucking dirty mouth,” Jensen growls when Jared lays a soft lick smack dab at the heart of him, breath hitching when he adds, “You even know how dirty this is, Jay?”  
  
Jared pulls back a bit, confusion darkening his features. “You don’t like it?” The idea seems preposterous…hell, _he’s_ loving it so damn much that surely Jensen must be, too. He can’t stop touching Jensen, even while hesitation and insecurity starts to bubble beneath the crest of satisfaction. He licks his lips, the unfamiliar taste making his body swell and respond as he traces a finger along Jensen’s spit-slickened rim.  
  
Jensen’s trembling, not much but enough for it to be noticeable. “Jus’ isn’t necessary,” he mumbles, but he’s leaning into Jared’s touch like he’s starving for it. There’s a beat, panting, and then, “You wanna fuck me, right?”  
  
Jared blinks, shifting and reaching to adjust himself from the blinding blow the words serve to his dick. Yet, he can’t help but think that something’s off about Jensen’s question, his voice, this entire _thing._ He treads carefully, asking, “Is that, um, a trick question?”  
  
Jensen’s answering chuckle is rife with scorn and exhaustion. “God, just…” he trails off, the sound of the overhead fan whirring and competing with the dull roar of blood in Jared’s ears. “You don’t have to do anything fancy, Jay,” he says a minute later, sharp and concise. “I’m a sure thing. Just fuck me.”  
  
Jared’s brow furrows and his hand freezes, fingers digging into Jensen’s left hip. “I thought…” he has to take a minute, clear his throat and the cobwebs of husk and self-doubt. “I just wanted you to feel good. To make this good.”  
  
Jensen flinches at that. “Fuck me, damn it.” He twitches his hips, knowing damn well the sight it presents, and Jared sucks in a breath. Voice pitched lower, knowing, Jensen says, “C’mon, Jay. Fuck me.”  
  
Jared’s dick pulses, but he bites his lip and resists the urge to do exactly what Jensen’s demanding. “You’re not ready,” he points out, hoarse and thready. “I can’t just—”  
  
“Jesus Christ, enough of this _bullshit!_ ” Jensen finally breaks, twisting and finding Jared’s gaze with his own heated stare. His lips are pressed together so tightly, the corners of his mouth have gone pale with strain. “I can take it, Jared. I don’t…I don’t need you to fucking _make it good_ for me. What the hell do you think this is?”  
  
His voice cracks, and Jared just stares, unable to really comprehend what’s even happening. Jensen’s coming apart in front of him, shaking and desperate about something, and Jared’s terrified that he’s not gonna get an answer about what it is.  
  
He tries anyway, tone soft and soothing when he starts, “Jensen.”  
  
Jensen makes a disgusted sound, turning back and dropping his head between his shoulders and offering his ass again. “Fuck me or get out,” he says, and there’s nothing but chill in his voice. Nothing but tension tightening his muscles.  
  
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Jared manages, sounding, _feeling_ , choked. Desperate. “I…did I do something? Jen?” God, it’s so fucked up. He wants to reach out, wants to comfort, but Jensen’s hackles are up well and good and Jared knows Jensen. Knows he’s just as likely to get his hand bitten off as he is to get a reason why.   
  
“Nothing’s _wrong_ ,” Jensen grumbles, “except that your dick isn’t in my ass where it belongs.”   
  
Jared cannot even handle what that statement does to him. In between a flash of _Oh, Christ, fuck yes_ and a blur of flesh and fingers, he’s got Jensen under him and his dick buried so deep in hot, tight, perfection that the sound that comes out of his throat is almost more pained than pleasured.  
  
“Faster,” Jensen’s gasping, reaching back and gripping Jared by the ass.   
  
“I’m tryin’.” Jared can’t quite get the words out, teeth bared as he rests his forehead against the sweat-dampened skin of Jensen’s shoulder. “Oh, God, I’m gonna…”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
That’s all the warning Jared gets before Jensen’s ass clenches around him, a jerky groan spilling out of Jensen’s mouth as he arches back into Jared’s thrusts.   
  
Jared reaches down, catches the sticky-warm come against his fingers and slams his hips in again twice. He pulls out as the first blast shoots across Jensen’s back, jaw ground tight and eyes narrow slits.   
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
  
His stupid cell phone is ringing.  
  
Jared reaches over, hears Jensen snoring next to him, and mutters a choice greeting into the line as he recognizes the caller.  
  
“Jared, listen to me. You’ve…you’ve gotta stop this shit.”  
  
Jared sits up, immediately on edge from the terse note in Chad’s voice. “What are you talking about?” A quick glance at the clock has him groaning. “Dude, it’s like, four in the morning.”  
  
“Are you fucking him?”  
  
“Are you kidding?” Jared comes to his feet, barely missing the nightstand as he stumbles his way to the adjoining living area and shuts the door to the bedroom. “Chad, what the _fuck?_ ”  
  
“I…I thought you guys were just hanging out or whatever,” Chad’s saying, voice frantic and something else Jared’s not sure he wants to identify. “Jesus Christ, you’re _fucking_ him.”  
  
Annoyed heat explodes up his neck and his fingers clench the phone. “Is me fucking a guy a problem for you?” he chokes out, unable to believe this is even happening. Not that he’d planned to tell anyone anytime soon, but he’d thought…Chad was…  
  
“Did he tell you what he did?” Chad’s nearly vibrating now. “This is, this is _textbook_ , Jared. Jensen Ackles is a fucking _soulsucker_ , okay? He uses people.”  
  
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” But Jared’s suddenly very, very afraid he does. “Start talking or shut the fuck up, Chad.”  
  
And Chad does; vivid memories about a friend from back home, trying to make his big break with a little-known stint on _Dawson’s Creek_ at Chad’s suggestion. How he’d been promised the role and gotten the call at the last minute that it’d been given away to someone else. “Jensen,” Chad spits out, fury tightening his voice and making Jared’s head throb.  
  
“I get you’re pissed off, man,” he says, trying for calm. “But how is it Jen’s fault that he—”  
  
“Jensen’s old school, Jared. A suck for a part, a fuck for a role. Do you even, do you even know what I’m saying? He’s a fucking whore, Jared. And I have no idea what he wants from _you_ , but I’ll be damned if I let him fuck you over, too.”  
  
Jared’s fingers are numb on the phone, his response frozen in his throat. “How do you-- How do you even know this, Chad?”  
  
“Our agents run in the same circles,” Chad says flippantly. “I confronted him about it and he tried to blow me off, act like he’d done it straight.” There’s a choked laugh across the line, and then Chad adds, “Hell, how do you think he got _Dark Angel_ , Jared? _Smallville?_ You don’t think it’s a bit odd the guy’s always got five scripts at his disposal?”  
  
“He said he didn’t do anything,” Jared says lamely, hearing the snoring stutter in the other room. “You’re being fuckin’ paranoid, man.”  
  
There’s a long beat of silence, and Jared swallows the start to a million sentences. Then Chad snorts into the phone and hangs up, leaving Jared sitting there in the silent aftermath.  
  
He doesn’t go back in to see Jensen before leaving.  
  
  
 

***

  
  
  
Jared doesn’t sleep at all. Every moment he’s spent with Jensen, every offhand comment made by Mike or Tom or Chris or Steve suddenly has new meaning and is something to be dissected until he can figure out what the fuck the truth is. Of course, there’s only one person who can really tell him that.  
  
“What do you expect me to do?” Jensen sounds exasperated and just this side of angry. Jared immediately starts to duck out of the room, words frozen on his lips and key in hand, but then Jensen half-turns and _something_ in his expression catches Jared’s attention. “Jesus, Steve, he’s just…it’s nothing, okay?”  
  
There’s a beat of silence, and then Jensen curses low. “He’s just a dumb kid. Stop worrying about it. I can handle Jared.” Jensen’s rubbing the bridge of his nose, a grimace contorting his features. Jared stands still in the shadows by the front door, feeling every twist of the knife Jensen has in his belly.  
  
“It’s not…” Jensen makes a rough sound, resting his palm flat out on the kitchen counter. “It’s not _like_ that, man. Christ, don’t you think I know better? Look, I’ll call you later. I have to get back to Antonia about this script…yeah, fine. Later.”  
  
Jared disappears back out through the front door as Jensen slams the phone down. Jared’s clenching his jaw so tight, he can practically see flecks of enamel flying around his head as Chad’s accusation, Jensen’s conversation, rings in his ears.   
  
_OhGoditstrueitstrueitsallover._  
  
His face is carefully vacant when Jensen pulls the door open, flushed and heavy-lidded. Surprise dawns across his features, along with what Jared imagines is guilt. The knot in his belly winds tighter and he forces out a hasty smile.  
  
“Hey,” Jensen says, wiping his hands against his pants and moving back so Jared can step past him into the room. “Why’re you standing out here, didn’t I give you a key?”  
  
“I, uh, lost it.” The words are practically ripped from his throat, broken and bloody, but Jensen either doesn’t notice or he’s too distracted to care. Jared raises his voice a bit and adds, “You ready to go?”  
  
Jensen’s got his back to Jared now, hands fumbling with some papers at a desk by the window. There’s a subtle shift of muscle as he straightens. “Oh, actually.” He doesn’t turn to meet Jared’s gaze, shrugging a shoulder and stacking the papers before stuffing them in a drawer. “Something’s come up,” he says, so calmly that Jared wants to hit him.  
  
“Something,” Jared echoes, hands fisting at his sides as the words nearly choke him. “What, you late for an appointment to suck some producer’s dick? Job hunting, right?”  
  
“No, I have to…” Jensen trails off, going stiff and rigid. There’s a pregnant pause during which Jared stands there, helpless and enraged, before Jensen finally turns to face him. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a distant glitter in his eyes that makes Jared feel like he’s staring at a stranger.  
  
Maybe he is.  
  
To his credit, Jensen doesn’t ask Jared to repeat himself, or even feign ignorance. If anything, there’s a weariness in his voice when he murmurs, “I have an appointment, yes.”  
  
Jared’s knuckles crack. “And is the blowjob an advance payment for services rendered? Or would that be a fuck?”  
  
Jensen looks away, throat working. “Who told you that?”   
  
“Does it matter?” Jared asks, a disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. “Jesus Christ, Jen…I mean. Is it _true?_ ”  
  
A wheezy laugh echoes in the room, and Jensen sways toward the wall a bit. There’s a coldness that burns when he says, “Seems like you’ve already made up your mind there, Jay. Don’t be oblivious after the fact.”  
  
“Oh, fuck you.” Jared pauses. “Not literally.”  
  
Jensen blinks, and goddamn if the fucker’s lips twitch even a little bit Jared’s gonna lose his mind right then and there. But Jensen looks anything but amused by the situation, eyes dark and hooded as he takes a step forward. “You don’t…” he cuts himself off, sounding and looking more frustrated than Jared can ever remember. “You wouldn’t understand,” he finally settles for, and Jared feels every nerve in his body fray into a million scraggly threads.  
  
“Right. Of course not,” he manages around the razor-edged lump in his throat. “I’m just some dumb fucking _kid_ , right, Jensen?” He takes a bit of morbid delight out of seeing the color leech from Jensen’s features as he throws Jensen’s own words right back at him.   
  
He turns to leave because like _hell_ is he gonna let Jensen Ackles see him throw a goddamn hissy fit, and he feels like being the one to leave saves him at least an ounce of dignity. He’s barely turned on his heel before Jensen’s there, hands clutching Jared’s shoulders and spinning him back around.  
  
“Jared.” A gleam of desperation lights his eyes, and Jared wants to believe in it, but Jensen’s features are still guarded. Jared stares down at him, feeling something in his chest clench when he realizes every stupid little dream and fantasy he’s entertained about the two of them has been just that. A dream. And stupid.  
  
He shrugs Jensen off, face hurting as his lips stretch into a grotesque mockery of a smile. “It’s cool, dude,” he hears himself saying as if from far away. Voice grainy, wavering in and out. “I’ll just cut my losses, you know? See you around.”  
  
“You don’t _understand_ ,” Jensen says again, harder, and then he’s back up in Jared’s personal space and it’s enough to finally peel back that last layer holding Jared together. He shoves at Jensen, breath coming shallow and fast, and Jensen just stands there and _takes_ it.  
  
And if that’s what Jensen wants, then Jared can definitely accommodate him.  
  
“You fucking slut,” he whispers, blinking against the wetness blurring his vision and Jensen’s face. His voice gets louder when Jensen’s eyes and lips go flat. “S’what you wanna hear, right? Huh? Well, how about this. Don’t you have any fucking _respect_ for yourself?”  
  
“See, this is why I never told you,” Jensen starts, sounding pissed off, and yet there’s a helplessness there that even someone as ‘oblivious’ as Jared can’t miss. “You just think you know every fucking thing, Jared. So go on, keep telling yourself that.”  
  
“I know what you tell me,” Jared tosses back, not caring if he sounds childish or immature. “Which is _nothing_ , so fuck you and I’m leaving.”  
  
“Easier that way, huh?” Jensen shoves Jared a full step back when he goes for the door. “Hear something you don’t like and you’re outta here? Wasn’t wrong, was I?”  
  
“Why can’t you. Just.” Jared’s lips are trembling, and he scrubs a hand down his features, feeling something wet brush the back of his palm. “Why?” he says, again, voice rough and thick. “Why can’t you just let me be there for you, Jen?”  
  
“What the hell do you think you can do?” Jensen scoffs, fingers curling. His gaze is wild and speculative. Scared. “Think you can fix me, Jared? I don’t fucking need that shit.”  
  
“I just want you to—”  
  
“Save it.” Jensen’s voice is a cold snap.  
  
Jared stares at him. “Why won’t you go home?” The words are quiet and loaded, and Jensen flinches and looks away.  
  
“Shut up, Jared.” A warning.  
  
“Why won’t you _face_ them?” Jared presses on, moving closer until there’s only a few feet separating them. He can hear Jensen breathing, hear the shaky inhalations and gasping exhales. “Too scared for them to find out?”  
  
Jensen laughs, and the sound is ugly and harsh.  
  
“Talk to me.” Jared’s voice breaks, and he knows how fucking pathetic he must look, begging Jensen for emotional scraps when he knows – he _knows_ – the truth. But Jared’s never been a quitter, not without reason, and God help him…it’s not too late yet. It can’t be.  
  
Jensen’s lips press into a flat line. “Nothin’ to talk about,” he manages, turning to look at Jared with shining, angry eyes. “Leave it alone.”  
  
“I can’t.”  
  
“Damn it, stop being such a dumb shit!” Jensen shouts. “Learn how to take care of your own fucking self before you try to do it for someone else.”  
  
_He’s just a dumb kid.  
  
It’s not like that._  
  
Jared can’t see anything. It’s all blurry, out of focus, painful. Even worse, he doesn’t know what to say, how to make _anything_ better. Or if he even wants to. “Okay,” he whispers, holding both hands up, an apology. A surrender, maybe. “Okay. You’re right. This is done.”  
  
Jensen’s eyes flash, his mouth falls open. “ _Jared--_ ”  
  
Jared turns around, blinded, feeling his way with numb hands.  
  
“You walk out the door, this is on _you_.” Jensen’s shaking voice gives him pause. And then, “Grow the fuck up, Jared, or else get the fuck out.”  
  
Jared barely spares him a glance before slamming the door.   
  
  
 

***

  
  
“My life is a fucking joke.” Jared lifts a bottle to his lips three days later, grimacing at the smoky aftertaste. Peeling at the familiar black and red label, he gives a crooked grin. “Jim agrees.”  
  
“Dude, no.” Chad’s voice is tinny over the line. “Lemme tell you about _my_ day. My sister had some of her fucking friends over, right? And—”  
  
“I don’t care how many teenage girls’ phone numbers you got,” Jared slurs, sinking back into the couch cushions and draining another long sip of whiskey. “Sicko.”  
  
“Hey, least I’m not the one doing Jensen Ackles up the ass,” Chad points out, quite unnecessarily in Jared’s opinion.  
  
“Yeah? Well, neither’m I.” Jared salutes with the bottle, letting out a high-pitched giggle. “He don’t want me anyway, Chad. You…you were right.”  
  
“He’s an ass,” Chad mutters, but Jared can hear the concern even through his intoxicated bubble. “What’d you do, Jared?”  
  
“What I shoulda done months ago.” Jared’s lids fall along with his voice. “What I shoulda done that night at Tom fuckin’ Welling’s house.”  
  
“Aw, you hooked up at _Welling’s?_ I was _there_ , man,” Chad’s complaining through the phone, and Jared giggles again.  
  
“Whoops.” He drops his feet heavily onto the coffee table, wiggling his toes and watching through bleary vision. “His loss, dude. I’m fuckin’ sexy as hell.”  
  
“Oh, yeah. Real sexy. Don’t know how I’ve restrained myself all this time.”  
  
“I don’t care how hot he is, neither,” Jared continues, blood pumping pleasantly through his veins as he stretches out and rests his hand on his dick. “Or how tight his fuckin’ ass is.”  
  
“Uh…”  
  
Jared bites his lip, squeezing himself through denim and closing his eyes. “I can do better.” He hopes.  
  
Chad says something, but it gets distorted when Jared’s phone beeps with an incoming call. Without warning his friend, Jared clicks over with a, “Hello? What?”  
  
There’s a beat of silence, and Jared huffs out a breath and presses the button to reconnect with Chad. “Anyway,” he says, picking the conversation back up. “I don’t fuckin’ _care_ how hot Jensen Ackles is. He’s a son of a bitch and I don’t need sex _that_ bad, man, y’know? ”  
  
“Jared?”  
  
Jared blinks, lips curved around the rim of the bottle of Jim Beam. “Okay, that’s just plain scary, Chad.”  
  
“It’s Jensen.”  
  
There’s a long pause, and then Jared laughs unsteadily. “No…I dumped you. Therefore you’re supposed to go away and I’m supposed to get drunk and forget you ever existed. Them’s the rules, Jen, pay attention.”  
  
“You getting drunk, Jay?” Jensen asks, and Jared’s eye twitches at the sad yet hopeful note in Jensen’s voice.   
  
“Done past the mark,” Jared drawls, exaggerating his accent and shifting the phone to his opposite ear. “The fuck do _you_ want, anyway?”  
  
There’s a succession of rapid breathing, a low curse, and then, “C’mon. Don’t do this, Jared.”  
  
“Do what?” He’s never heard his _own_ voice sound so cold, and hazily wonders if he should thank the liquor or curse it. “Finally grow a fuckin’ pair? Wake up?”  
  
“Don’t…” Jensen’s voice hitches. “Don’t leave it like this, man.”  
  
“Again, failing to see why you care.” Jared’s chest is _aching_ , and not even his buzz can help him now. “What, your pretty little cocksucking lips didn’t get you what you wanted? Tough luck, next time make it a harder sell.”  
  
He hangs up with shaking hands and throws the phone and the bottle across the room, with dull eyes watching the amber liquid swirl and spread across the carpet. He’s suddenly nowhere near drunk enough.  
  
He sits there for long moments in the dark, head in his hands, until the phone starts to ring again. Jared considers just letting the fucking thing go, but before he’s even aware that he’s made a decision, he’s crawling across the floor on wobbly knees and picking the receiver up.  
  
He doesn’t bother with a hello, just holds his breath and waits. It doesn’t take as long as he expects.  
  
“I was nineteen when I let the first one fuck me. It, it was for some dumb modeling job and I needed the money.”  
  
Breath catching, Jared sinks back onto his calves. “Okay.” After a long beat of silence, he clenches the receiver and adds, “Jensen, I—”  
  
“I…I can’t… _do_ this,” Jensen’s voice breaks, and so does something in Jared’s chest.  
  
“Then neither can I.” It kills him to make it this way, but he can’t take it anymore. It’s gotta be all or nothing, and the sinking feeling that nothing’s gonna win out is more devastating then he’d like to contemplate, half-drunk and heartbroken.  
  
“Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?” Jensen’s gritting out, choked and guttural.  
  
_Because I love you, you dumb fuck._  
  
“Because it’s not fair,” Jared says instead, rubbing his temple and digging his free hand into his thigh. “It’s goin’ nowhere, man, and I just…I’m sorry, Jen.”  
  
There’s a moment of heavy breathing, then a raw laugh. “Fuck you and your goddamn apologies, you son of a bitch.” This time, it’s Jensen who hangs up.   
  
Jared listens to the muted dial tone until it becomes a monotonous roar in his ears.  
  
The next day, he calls his agent and commits to the _Supernatural_ casting pool.


End file.
